Be Your Love
by GCatsPjs
Summary: Rain and thoughts, and how they mix. I don't know if there is more... Tell me what you think.
1. Alone, Together

**Be Your Love**

The rain fell from the sky like tiny shards of glass, cold and prickling, as they slammed hard into her skin. She had been sitting on this bench for hours, since the sun had slipped below its darkened harness of a horizon in the distance, awaiting its slumber as it slowly rolled out of sight for it's evenings rest.

At first she hadn't even noticed the tiny droplets, the darkening of the sky, the gentle rolling thunder that echoed in the distance as it pushed at the clouds with invisible hands, coaxing them along the sky like a reluctant child in a game of follow the leader. The gentle droplets plopped unceremoniously onto her coat and her skirt, her bare knees, rolling down her skin to her shoes, tenuous droplets that increased in speed and frequency the longer she sat there.

She found no reason to stand, for there was no shelter within distance that would not find her soaked to the bones before she arrived there anyway, so alone she sat on the bench, staring into the dark, shallow reflecting pool as the monuments shone into its depths from the distance.

Across the pool, and several yards down the way sit a man, not unfamiliar with the sting of the cold rain on his skin. The former Army ranger sits alone, his suit jacket tight on his body as his tie hangs loosely around his neck. He had come to the pool in the darkness, his wrists tired from typing up paperwork, a task he typically would hand over to his partner, a woman who loved to use her hands for most everything. She was a woman of proof, a woman of evidence, and each and every experience for her had to be proven by herself, otherwise it didn't exist.

As the rain had begun to fall around him, each droplet staining his suit with a darkened blob, he closed his eyes and lifted his face, allowing his mind to wander as the cold, stinging drops splattered across his skin, cooling the warm feeling that any thoughts of his partner would bring to him. He had told her that he was going home after he completed his paperwork, and had even stopped at the diner, hoping to see her tall, beautiful figure sitting at their table waiting for someone to join her. He found their table empty, and at the thought of that emptiness, felt the hollowness of his own heart as well, which led him to this bench, in the darkness beside the dark, shallow reflecting pool as the raindrops became larger and more urgent with each passing moment.

She lifted her face against the rain, allowing the hard droplets to hit her face with increasing velocity, the wind blowing her hair as the thunder grumbled above, her eyes closed, but the reflection of the lightning was visible through her eyelids in bright flashes as the wind howled around her, leaves scattering about as she just simply was.

He allowed his eyes to bare the brunt of the rain, eventually allowing himself to close his eyes, the droplets trailing down his skin like heavenly tears, streaking down his face, across his stubble lined jaw, a shiver shaking his body from deep within his core. He wasn't sure if it was the coolness of the rain, or the lost feeling he had in his heart, but there was something, something that sent a shiver down his spine as a leaf flew up and slapped itself against his suit jacket, before skittering off after the wind and rain around him.

As she felt the rain hitting her, she could hear her partner's voice in her mind, chastising her for doing such a ridiculous and irrational thing as sitting on a bench in the rain, waiting for the cold to lower her defenses, to compromise her immune system in such a way so that she'd catch pneumonia, or a cold, or some ridiculous virus. She found herself almost laughing out loud at the thought of him trying to protect her, even when in that exact moment, he was breaking her heart, and she was breaking his. She laughed at the irony of him being the one to tell her to be rational, to think, to not do something as stupid as sitting on a bench in a torrential downpour. It was ironic because she was the rational one, wasn't she?

You cannot protect those of which are victim of your heartbreak.

You cannot step in and be the hero, if you are the villain.

It's like breaking a glass vase, just so that you can glue it back together again. Because no matter how steady your hand, and how perfectly those pieces fit back together, there will always be the evidence of that break. There will be lines and chips on the surface of the vase, and sure… you can paint over those cracks, you can spackle and re-finish… but under all of that work, that effort to repair what you broke, its never as strong as it once was when it was whole.

She stood.

He stood.

And together, yet separated by a darkened pool of water, unknowing and constantly pelted by the angry storm from above, they walked toward the light of the Lincoln Memorial.

Cast in the shadow of the famous monument were numerous people who had moved to its confines to find shelter from the rain. Tourists and homeless, park rangers, and citizens, milled about the center of the monument, their faces illuminated by the bright lights within that spotlighted the massive statue of the 16th president of the United States.

Neither saw the other, their feet slow and steady as they each climbed the steps of the monument separately, yet perfectly in step. She noticed him first, her footing faltering on the marble steps as she tumbled forward, landing hard against the stone with an unconscious yelp, scraping her bare skin against the marble.

Whether he recognized her yelp, or simply felt the duty and honor to help a fellow citizen in need, he wasn't sure, but he rushed to the fallen woman, slumped over the stairs as she tried to stand. "Hey, are you okay? Those stairs can be pretty slippery when they're…" It was that moment that their eyes met, and though her hair was drenched and dripping, and her body was trembling violently, he held her arm tightly as he felt a jolt of electricity shoot down his arm. He smiled at the inane sense of coincidence that they would both be standing there, drenched in the cold spring rain, at the Lincoln Memorial steps when each of them were supposed to be on a date, or home entertaining a guest, or at work, finishing the reports on their last couple of cases, anywhere but right there at that very moment, together. "Bones?"

"Booth." Her voice was clear, not inquisitive or questioning, it was a statement, almost as if she had expected him to be the one there at her side in her moment of weakness, a name so normal and natural that it was more often uttered from her lips than any other word in one day. His hand remained strong on hers, helping her to her foot, she looked down at her scraped shin, and watched the rain send the blood in little rivulets down her skin, causing an intense stinging pain to rattle her resolve.

"Let me get you someplace dry so that we can look at that." He said, watching her quick flash of denial. She saw the insistent look in his eyes that he always reserved for moments like these, and he pushed his arm around her shoulder, supporting her as they climbed the rest of the way up the stairs together.

He pushed them through the throngs of people, dirty looks and people pushing as he found a place below the Gettysburg Address engraving, to help her to the ground. She looked up and saw the words on the wall, her lips curling into a smile as she looked up at them for a moment, and her eyes caught his.

"Did you ever read the Gettysburg address?" She asked, looking up at the words, she caught his eyes as he let out an incredulous laugh.

"Yeah… yeah, Bones… I've read the Gettysburg address, why?"

"It's just funny… almost ironic… how he says, right in the speech itself that 'The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here'… here, being Gettysburg… the battle of course, yet… here it is… carved into this stone, each and every word of that speech…" She said, her teeth chattering as Booth looked at her leg carefully. "It's just a scrape, right?"

"Yeah…" he said, pulling a dry handkerchief from his inside liner of his coat that had somehow remained dry during the storm, perhaps it was because of its location against his body. He allowed his eyes to capture hers in their depths, the sound of the howling wind, the pounding rain, and the chattering people around them were completely drown out as he slowly placed the handkerchief over her injured leg, his eyes never wavering for a moment. "Well, you know Bones… Lincoln… he had a way with words, you know? Some men… they just had a way to say things that could reach out and touch so many people, a talent so far reaching and magical, that no matter how much time passes, it just doesn't matter… because those words survived… and they meant something back then, and they mean something now, and they will always mean something… something very, very important." Booth said, letting his eyes flicker away from hers as he tended to her leg.

"He was a good man."

"Yes."

"An Honorable man."

"Yes."

"Trustworthy."

"Yes."

"And people gave him a chance."

"They did."

"Why?"

His eyes snapped up to hers and held them for a moment. "Because he proved himself to be a good leader. He made promises and kept them… he needed to keep this country united."

"Why?"

"Because if it separated… it would all… fall apart." He swallowed hard, and moved to his side, and pushed his back up against the marble wall beside her, wrapping his arm around her.

"I don't want it to fall apart." She whispered, resting her head on his shoulder, she felt his hand move to her temple as he gently guided her head to his shoulder. He ran his fingers through her hair as he kissed the top of her rain soaked head, breathing in the sweet smell of shampoo that the rain had released.

"I don't want it to fall apart either, Bones." He whispered, kissing the top of her head, they both closed their eyes, finally together, on the same page of the past and the future.


	2. Together, Alone

In a move that not only defined the strange and unpredictable weather patterns of Washington D.C., the storm above passed as quickly as it had appeared. The crowd around the memorial was slowly thinning, and tourists braved the waning sprinkles to run to their cars, children, bags, and strollers in tow. Two forms sit beneath the great wall of words that were etched into the marble, and the hearts and minds of those who took the time to read them, learn them, interpret them into their own words, and use them in their own way, in their own lives.

The forms beneath the words sit together, warmed by the other as the rain water dripped from their bodies onto the now slick marble floor of the monument. He leaned forward, his back protesting the movement with a sharp pull that forced him to wince, and he looked down at the makeshift bandage that had been delicately wound around her leg. Her eyes were closed when he had looked down at the bandage, but when they traveled the length of her long, smooth leg to her knee, he caught a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye and knew that he had been caught admiring.

His cheeks burned suddenly, the blood rushing to the ends of the blood vessels, traveling to his ears as a sheepish smile slowly curled his lips. "Does it hurt?" He whispered in a husky tone, attempting to hide his embarrassment through his concern, but she had already caught him, and he couldn't miss the amusement that danced through those crystal blue eyes, wide with wonder, wide with questions, her hand fell to the marble floor, her delicate fingertip swirling in the droplets of water as she very obviously ignored his question for a moment.

"Yes." She whispered.

Her answer was so soft, and so assuring, and though he was talking about her leg, and she knew that, her response was stated while looking into his eyes. For a split second, he was unsure of what his question was, her answer so long in waiting, and he watched her for a moment to see if she was going to continue the thought that he could very nearly see, traipsing around the tip of her tongue. Those thoughts, however would have to wait, and her answer would have to suffice to the question that he asked, for there was no time for interpretation, there was only time for the present, and he knew this the moment he saw her shiver. "Bones, you're cold."

"I will be fine." She whispered.

There was no denial as to the state that she was, just a simple statement of contentment, one that he never liked to hear, one that always meant that she was taking something else into consideration when it came to her own wellbeing, and one that meant that there was so much more behind those words that she was keeping from him. He did not like secrets between them, and from the moment they had stepped into Sweets' office that day, to right this very moment, it felt that there were far too many secrets floating between them.

"When?" His simple answer surprised them both, and though she shivered a second time, he could see that she was trying to hide it from him. He frowned.

"I don't understand."

But she did, and he knew that she did.

"You understand. It was a simple question."

"When will I be fine?" She asked, her voice slightly higher than just a moment before, her vocal cords constricting with her increased blood pressure, increased pulse, increased heart rate.

"That's what I asked." He replied honestly. "When can I expect things to be the way they should be, Bones?" He asked, his pretense totally shattered like a rock smashing through a jewelry store window, his soul was lying there, naked and shivering before them, as if he himself had no shelter from the storm that was raging in his heart.

"The way they should be? I thought that they were. You and I working together, partners, friends… the only difference, is that… I am kind of seeing Andrew, and you are seeing Catherine. Other than that, everything is the same."

"Except that you seemed to have lost your sense, sitting in the rain?" She turned her head just then, her eyes flickering from his view, and it was as if the sun had been hidden behind a cloud. She refused to turn her head, refused to face him, and with the loss of eye contact, he was quickly finding himself lost in his own frustration. "Since when do we keep secrets from one another?" He whispered, looking down at his hands, he followed the lines in them, keeping his mind busy on that while he waited for her answer. He noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, her eyes now on his face, and he could feel the warmth of her gaze keeping him hopeful, keeping him light.

"I am not keeping any secrets from you." Her voice showing her uncertainty that he was speaking about herself or him, and she watched him stare at his hands, his eyes dancing over the lines and creases as if he were trying to find the answer within them.

"Bones?" He sighed, staring at his hands a little harder, he turned them over and looked at the back side of them, just trying to keep his thoughts organized, because he knew if he looked up at her, all would be lost. She was waiting for him to continue, and just for the sake of torture, he let her name hang in the air for a moment, just for dramatic effect. "Do you remember that stupid fight that you and Angela had a few months back?"

"No." She whispered, unsure of exactly what he was speaking of, she preferred if he left the conversation to himself, and not dragged her into it.

"The one about the pig… she was trying to rescue a pig, and you…"

"Yes, yes… yes, I remember that argument." She said quickly, trying to hurry along the conversation, there was no reason to rehash old events, and she was wondering why he was doing so.

"Do you remember ultimately why you decided to give in?"

"Because you said…"

"Okay." He said, interrupting her before she could get her thought out. "Do you remember when Max was working at the Jeffersonian… and you didn't want him to work there, but you eventually gave in… you gave him a chance, because you loved him, and because you knew it would make him happy to work nearby to you."

"No." She shook her head. "I agreed to let him work his probation through because you told me that his presence would…"

"Okay." He nodded, again interrupting her explanation, he could tell that she was getting agitated by this tactic, and he knew that he needed to work fast if he wanted to get through to her. Her mind worked so much faster than his, and he never knew when she'd catch up. "And what about the book?" He asked.

"The book?"

"Your book… why did you give Angela twenty five percent of your profits, Bones?"

"Because she helped me write it… she deserved to be compensated for her share."

"And why did you do that?"

"Because you…" She stopped. She stopped and now it was time for her eyes to focus on her own hands, her fingertips playing haphazardly against one another, she tried to see through his reasoning, but it was flawless. Suddenly, she felt as if the tables had been turned. Here she was, soaking wet from sitting on a bench in the pouring rain for no other reason other than the fact that she liked the feel of the cold water splattering on her skin, and he was being the rational one. He was sitting beside her telling her the facts instead of the other way around. Suddenly, she felt lost.

Always, she had been the rational thinker, the one to stop things when they got out of hand. She was always the one to take her emotions and tie them up with a pretty little bow and tuck them away. There were no rules that she didn't follow to the letter, as long as they had been her rules, as long as they had made rational sense, as long as he approved of them. She stopped and swallowed hard, trying to remember the last time that she didn't run something by Booth before making a decision, and suddenly felt panicked.

He watched diligently as her mind worked through the stream of consciousness that she typically found comforting. He watched her eyes focus on her hands, moving rapidly over the lines and creases as if she expected them to give her some sort of answer. She was quickly coming to a realization, quickly coming to a conclusion, and he knew that her brain worked at the pace of a hummingbird's wings, and if he didn't pull out a net and capture them soon, then she would be fleeing from that monument faster than he could get the words out. "Bones." He said, his voice obviously startling her out of her train of thought, her eyes met his, and her mouth hung open just slightly as she waited for him to continue. "Somewhere in the middle of all of this… somewhere… you and I switched sides."

"What?" She whispered.

"Somewhere…" He spoke slowly. "Somewhere in our relationship… we collided…"

"I don't understand." She whispered, allowing her nose to crinkle slightly, her eyes to take on that doe eyed expression that usually got him to stop, but there was far too much riding on this, far too much to lose, and he was finally getting somewhere with her.

"Bones… just stop… stop… thinking, stop rationalizing, stop pushing me away. Just listen to me, okay?" He said, pushing away from her about a foot or two, he looked around and found that most everyone had left the protective confines of the monument. He knelt down before her, his eyes begging as if his body wasn't up to the task. "Don't look at me like I'm speaking another language, Bones. Don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about! Somewhere between partnership and friendship, we collided… like atoms colliding, you know? What happens when two atoms collide? Even I know the answer to that one, Bones. Now you tell me!" He exclaimed in a level of desperation that she rarely saw, his eyes were so sincere, and she opened her mouth to answer, and the words refused to escape. He let out a frustrated growl, turning, he slammed his back against the marble beside her, burying his face in his hands. "You are punishing yourself for something that you aren't even guilty of!" He exclaimed.

She stared ahead, where he had been kneeling before her, and she could still see the torture in his eyes. Her lips would move, but nothing would come out, and he was practically crying beside her, and she couldn't comfort him. She couldn't comfort him, because she knew that she was the source of his pain. She listened to him take a deep breath, shivering in her current state, she heard a slight moan come from her partner's lips as he sucked in a deep breath once again, and look up to the ceiling of the monument. "I feel like I'm climbing a treacherous mountain." He whispered. "When I'm with you." He looked toward her, and she stared into his eyes, still willing to understand. "When people look at you… they see something cold… covered in snow, rocky and harsh. When they talk to you, they see the challenge, the difficulty of who you are, they see the opportunity to conquer you, to best you… to strive to be smarter than you, better than you, to get something past you… but all I see when I look at you, Bones… what I see… is the shelter that you provide from the storms that life brings me… I see the cool, calm, reasonable side of you… those harsh parts are just a façade… because beneath that rocky exterior, I know there is something soft beneath, I've seen it… I've seen the avalanche of snow… burying those below who tried to conquer you, hurt you… I've always risen above that… seen beyond that… and to climb to the pinnacle wouldn't be a feat in destroying you, or saying that I was the one that conquered you, but instead… I want to be the one to be there… to conquer your fears… because at the top, the air may be thin, and to an outsider, it may appear cold and desolate… but it's all a veneer… its an oasis there… an escape… you help me to escape, Bones… and yeah, you're not one for metaphor, but that is what I think of you… Bigger than life." He said, lifting his head, he found that she was staring right at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears as he shrugged. "You say you haven't changed… that you can't change… and maybe you haven't, maybe not to other people, but I have seen a transformation in you so profound, Bones… so obvious… that it kills me when you don't see it."

She wanted to say something to him, his eyes now burning into hers like two candles, flickering and filled with so much emotion, that it was as if she were waiting for them both to burst into flames. She didn't know if she should respond, if he wanted her to respond, if he wanted her to say something more than what he had just said. She had heard every word, and her mind was buzzing with words, thoughts, metaphor, themes, feelings, emotions. She didn't know how to stop, to just stop.

So she closed her eyes.

She closed her eyes and closed herself completely from everything.

Absolutely everything.

Except for him.

She could hear him breathing.

She could smell his cologne.

She could still hear his words, echoing in her mind… his voice…

"They produce heat." She whispered.

She felt his arm around her, pulling her body into his, feeling the warmth of him through their damp, dripping clothes. "You have changed, Bones… and so have I… we collided, Bones… we collided, and there is no way to undo that. You can't run from it, you can't escape it, it happened."

"What do we do?" She whispered, her eyes still closed, her head now resting on his shoulder.

"We stop pretending." He whispered, dropping a tender kiss in her hair, as they kept one another warm, the memory of them being alone together melted quickly into them being together, alone.


	3. Lean on Me

When the last of the tourists had moved from the entrance of the only two people remaining slowly moved from their crutch, straightening up against the marble wall, it was almost as if they were assessing the situation and trying to internally assign the action of getting up without words. Because he was uninjured, and a gentleman, Booth was the first to stand, instinctively holding out his large hand to the woman on the floor below him, his partner, his friend. She reached her own hand and entwined her fingertips with his, feeling the warmth that had returned to his now dry hands, she was thankful in knowing that it was just as strong as it had ever been, gripping her hand tightly, she climbed to her feet carefully.

With no wonder at all, he held her hand still, even as she stand very able bodied beside him, and she let him. Checking to ensure they left nothing behind, Brennan allowed her partner to lead her from the confines of the monument, and onto the stairs at its front. A gentle fog had risen over the reflecting pool, drifting delicately over the shallow waters and giving the monuments in the distance a sense of free floating structure, the lights around them dimmed and muted, and the sounds of the cars on the streets were few and far between, their tires splashing in the random puddles that lined the pavement, the water glistening off the asphalt like a million polished diamonds.

His fingers pulsed slightly as he walked with her down the steps, his eyes moving to her leg to ensure the makeshift bandage remained in place as she walked, and ensuring that she wasn't in enough pain to force them to stop and rest. She seemed sure footed, if not a bit shaky, but perfectly able to descend the stairs without much pain or discomfort. He squeezed her hand just slightly, a movement that was almost a twitch, almost nothing, until he felt a gentle squeeze in return.

Her hand was cold in his, and he imagined that the rest of her body was just as cool with the wet garments that hang from her shoulders. He looked to the sky, the dull glow of the moon behind the clouds sent out an eerie vibe that resonated through him, and though the clouds were moving furiously, it looked as if they had some time before the next onslaught of raindrops. He walked with her down the sidewalk, carefully avoiding puddles that were only seen through the reflections of the street lamps and the dull glow of the moon above. It would seem almost pointless, this chivalrous action, since they were already soaked through their clothes, and shoes, but the standard still stood, and she was still precious to him, and nothing would penetrate his deep seated need to protect her at all costs, even at the mercy of a few tablespoons of water cradled in the worn D.C. asphalt.

They stepped across the street cautiously, their lips pursed and their minds reeling as he walked just a half step ahead of her, his fingers wiggling just a bit in hers, and she wiggled hers back, as if his digits were asking her a question, and she was replying. He turned his gaze on her, and she was watching him with trusting eyes, so trusting and pure. He need not ask if she minded where he was taking her, and she need not ask their destination, it was just understood. They stepped up onto the curb before their hallowed diner, his loose hand reaching out to settle against the metal bar across the door, pushing their way inside, with a familiar jingle of the bell that he rarely even heard anymore when he walked inside. His hand slipped easily from hers, moving up her arm as he found that familiar spot at her back, his fingers dancing if not a bit nervously over the damp material of her jacket as she moved in front of him toward the confines of the chair and table that they frequently referred to as 'ours', and he reached behind her, pulling the chair out, as her eyes lifted to meet his in a questioning stare. He tipped his head, a cocky smile on his lips as they parted. She raised her eyebrows for just a split second before settling in her chair, and he in his own chair.

Their presence and condition was not a surprise to the staff of the Royal Diner, for this wouldn't be the first time that the two present patrons had come into the establishment no worse for wear. The usual night waitress had looked up, noting some of the typical aspects of the pair. For instance, they always walked in without acknowledgement or announcement, quiet and insistent, they stepped across the linoleum tile floor without so much as a word to one another, or anyone around them, that was no surprise. The beeline they made to the table in the back, settling comfortably into the well worn chairs of the establishment, they sat across from one another, a heavy silence following them, and settling right between them as he pulled her chair out for her. That, was a little different. In the past he may have tried that, and through years of seeing them together, she knew that Doctor Brennan would never accept such a gesture without some words to her partner, but there was only silence. It was then the waitress realized that something else had been different when the two had walked into the diner, and she nearly smacked herself for missing it. They had been holding hands, and not like two lovers, or a married couple, but holding on in that way where you aren't sure if you should be, it was a handhold that was somewhere between uncertainty and a life or death grip, and just as quickly as it had been there, her hand slipped from his, and settled in her back as he ushered her gently through the diner. Lost in a daydream, the waitress almost didn't realize that their eyes were on her, the only patrons in the diner at that time of night, and she was busy staring off into space wondering what had changed between the two of them. Ridiculous.

She rushed to their table, pad in hand, though she knew that it was pointless to bother, they never ordered much, and she and the cook were the only other two there. She straightened herself as she approached the table, two sets of eyes looking up at her as he flashed a slightly strained smile. Coffee and pie for him, and a cup of herbal tea for her. She smiled politely as she turned from their table, their silence was deafening as they looked at one another, and she could tell from the tension in the room that there were a million things that each wanted to say to the other, but between the two of them, neither could even begin to decide where to start.

Brennan found herself staring at her fingers again, drumming mindlessly on the table, the dull thump of them hitting the tabletop was enough to keep her amused, and not looking up at the object of her anxiety. She didn't know what to say, but there was so much that she knew she needed to say, and there was no clear way of knowing where to even start, so she decided to wait it out.

Booth watched her fingers dance over the table, thumping the Formica finish over and over again, her eyes working over the patterns on the table, her lips moving ever so slightly as if she were reciting something to herself, as if her words were just below the surface, and she was trying to allow them to come forth, the tapping was insistent, and he knew she was nervous, he reached out and placed his hand over hers, and it was that moment that her eyes lifted to meet his, and all of the doubt, all of the confusion, all of the fear, and all of the regret that she had been holding back burst forth and poured from her soul through those blue orbs of light and color, and he could almost see the exhale of pent up anxiety release from her body, and with those eyes on his, he watched as through those eyes, the walls that she had so carefully constructed around her began to crumble to a fine, unearthly dust, and his fingertips grazed her skin so delicately, she felt as if it were possible, her skin would burst into flames from his touch. He watched as color rose in her cheeks, and his eyes followed both of hers, and her head tipped questioningly.

"Ask me." His voice floated between them, hauntingly deep and full of so many mixed feelings, he watched her eyes change color, and was mesmerized by the way her eyelids narrowed and widened as she read him cover to cover.

She wanted to ask a question, his request in that low throaty voice that seemed to catch her off guard. He looked tired, if not a bit haggard from the rainstorm, but still handsome. His lips were parted just so, and she could see the tips of his pearly white teeth, and for a moment felt a tightening in her belly at the thought of them grazing across her skin. Oh, how she wanted to close her eyes and savor that moment in her mind, but instead found herself staring into the widening pupils of her partner as he requested one of scores of questions that were marching through her mind at that very moment. She knew that if she uttered his name, stammered, or even made a sound with her voice that sounded like hesitation, that the conversation could end as quickly as it began, so she asked the only question that kept rising to the surface.

"Are you going to leave me?" Her voice whispered with intense sincerity that seemingly knocked the wind right out of him.

So he answered.

There was no pause, no pretense, or questioning of his intentions.

"No." Was his response, and it hung in the air, floating between them like their breaths, and he breathed it out, and she took it in, as they each tried to determine where to go from that exact moment.


	4. Noble Truth

His reply echoed in the air, so serious and strong, that she felt a shiver of something traveling through every nerve ending in her spine. She found herself breathless and speechless, unable to speak another word, or even think so much as an almost thought as she stare into the abyss that were his eyes, and struggled to find some semblance of focus. It wasn't his words or hers that broke the stalemate at that moment, it was the return of the waitress, her hands reaching across the two of them as neither spoke a word, or even looked to her, except to give a nod of gratitude. She quickly disappeared behind the counter, and then slipped into the kitchen, willing to wait for the bell on the door to ring before she exited once again, determined to give the two customers all of the privacy that she could.

Their tea and coffee sit in front of them, their eyes focused solely on the person sitting across from them as their minds struggled with the ability to speak, until she spoke eight words that elicited such a visceral response from him, she found herself in a state of shock.

"I am destined to be alone forever, Booth."

"No!" His hand slammed down onto the table violently, sending silverware jangling, and the coffee and tea swirling haphazardly in their cups as he moved his face toward hers, leaning close to her, she could see the fire in his eyes. "Absolutely not!" He whispered, his teeth gritting so tightly, that his jaw clicked with the tension that was building there. His eyes held a menacing stare, an angry stare, a look of such rage that she had never seen from him, and he could see the shock in her eyes, the way her breath hitched and held, that he may have frightened her, and a veil of guilt washed over him.

Neither spoke or moved, their eyes were far too focused across the table to even fathom anything other than breathing, and he knew that as quickly as her mind worked, he needed to stop the walls from being constructed at that very moment, or he would be shut out completely.

"Why did you leave me?" He managed to croak out, her eyebrows knitting immediately, her mouth taking on an 'o' shape as she worked through his question in her mind. "Why did… you… leave me?" He asked again, this time putting the emphasis on the 'you', this time putting her on the spot, it was her turn to feel that guilt.

She could feel her mouth go dry as his eyes bore into her, as she tried to escape into a world of denial and darkness, his words were accusing, hurtful, and she knew that she deserved every one of them.

"You sit here now." He started, his words a low rumble from his lips, rolling from the tip of his tongue like an unruly storm that is about to light up the sky. "You sit here with me… and you ask me if I'm going to leave you… and you were the one that left me, Bones. You were the one that left me."

"I made sure that you were well taken care of." She whispered.

"That's not the point." He replied sharply, the tone of his voice was accusing and angry, not understanding and tender as it usually was. "That's not the point… When I went into that room for my surgery, you were all in… you made the time to be there, and when I came out of it… you took off."

"Booth…"

"No." He shook his head. "I needed you, Bones. I needed my friend, and you left."

"So you're mad at me because I left?"

"No, Bones, I am mad at you because I told you that I love you, and you pushed me away! It isn't because you ran, it's not because you're scared. I'm angry because you keep running! You keep pushing me away! You're only alone because you choose to be alone, not because you're destined to be alone. That is all on you, Bones… it's all on you… it isn't up to someone else to make you happy in your life, it's up to you!" He said, his words biting sharply into her, and her face contorted in pain as if he had physically attacked her.

"We should not be having this conversation here." She stated sternly, her eyes were lightening, and he could see that he was getting to her, and she tried to hide the pain, she tried to wash the struggle from her heart clean, but the longer he stared at her with those deep brown eyes, those tunnels into his soul, the deeper she was falling.

"Don't you dare try to avoid this conversation, Bones! We will have this conversation. We will have it here, we will have it on the street, and we will have it in every corner of this city if that is what I have to do to get you to see what is so goddamned clear to everyone else but you!" He said, watching her eyes move from his, the connection broken but for a second, and her steely stare was once again on his.

"I do not avoid." She exclaimed in an angry growl, that word was obviously something she had clung onto through his diatribe, and though she appeared to be on the defense, he couldn't help but see the vulnerability in her eyes.

"Then why was I alone after my coma without as much as a phone call from you?" He asked. "With all of the technology that you have at your fingertips, with all of the gadgets and doo dads that you use on a daily basis here in the lab… why was it that I didn't even get so much as a text message from you?"

"I was very busy." Her voice was a whisper, and even she didn't believe them.

"So that's your argument… you were very busy?" He asked, his eyes so dark and deep that she was quickly feeling the sense of being broken beneath that stare. He was so full of passion at that moment, that she felt as if he were literally squeezing her heart with his bare hands. He was no longer that tortured man who was standing on the steps of the Hoover building in the wake of a heartbreaking revelation. He was now fighting, he was now trying to understand, because he realized in the days and weeks following that moment on those stairs, that she owed him answers.

"Booth."

"No." He shook his head. "No, Bones…"

"Booth." She said again, in that high monotone voice that spoke of her vulnerability, the same tone that she expressed that day when her father and Russ fled from her, and he stood holding a gun on her father, her voice stabbing his heart with each utterance of his name, his mind working in circles until he dropped his gun and ran to her. "Booth." She said again, same word, same tone, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"What, Bones?" He asked, his tone sharp and brash, she bristled. "Do you think this is the end? You think this is the point where I get up and I walk away, right?" He asked. "You think… that in that moment… that exact second where you looked me in the eye and you told me that you had absolutely no good reason for leaving me alone in my moment of need… that I was going to stand up and walk out of here?" He asked, starting to stand up. He could see her take a deep breath, he watched the panic in her eyes, the tears starting to form as he straightened his coat and he stood up.

She wanted to utter his name, put her hand out for him, stop him. She wanted to tell him to stop, to stay, for them to work it out, for she did believe at that moment that he was going to walk out on her.

He then did something that she never expected. He leaned down against the table, his hands supporting his weight as he looked her directly in her eyes. She trembled as he hovered directly in front of her, the heat of his breath skittering across her skin as he watched her take in a breath, holding it.

"I didn't blame you, Bones. I missed you. I'm not going to leave you, Bones. I love you. I live for you, and I would die for you."

"Because you are my partner." She whispered, a slight nod and certainty in her voice.

"No." He said, shaking his head. "You cannot use one word to describe what we are, Bones. Whether or not you realize it, we've been courting one another since day one." He said, his face just inches from hers, he could see that she was listening very intently to each and every word that he uttered. We have experienced loss together, we protect one another from not just professional demons, but personal ones, partners don't do that. We subsist for one another, Bones. We are comfortable at our weakest with one another… we ensure that the other eats, drinks… has shelter. We are partners in work, and we are partners in life. We share more between one another than some couples who have been married for fifty years share in a lifetime. We trust one another with our lives, our families, our feelings, our hearts… and our physical relationship, though limited… it still exists, Bones. Between you, and I… there is no such thing as personal space. I don't shy away from your touch, and you don't shy away from mine. We are in a relationship, Bones… we've been in a relationship for more than five agonizing years… and I'm not going anywhere.

"You're with Catherine." She whispered.

"I'm with you." He whispered back. "I'm with you, all the way… and we are equals. We give, we take, we laugh, we cry… together, Bones. There's not a breath I take in, that you don't breathe out."

"So you're not with Catherine?" She asked.

"I stood her up, Bones… to sit in the rain and think of what I lost with you… because I would rather be miserable without you then share myself with anyone."

"Andrew and I have decided not to see one another anymore." She whispered.

"Why?"

"Because I had resigned myself to being alone, and I didn't want him to fall victim to my destiny."

"That is very noble of you." He whispered, still leaning against the table, still inches apart, still breathing one another's breathe, still squeezing one another's heart.

"I think it was cowardly." She whispered, watching his eyes react to her word, his pupils contracting slightly. "Please sit." She whispered.

"Why?"

"Because I think that this conversation has just begun, because I want to believe that you will not leave me… because I trust you."

"You trust me?" He whispered, his eyes narrowing as if he were challenging her, his lips pressed together and his eyes so absolutely steady on hers.

"More than I trust myself." She whispered.


	5. To Lose Control

He took his time in deciding whether to sit or continue standing, and truthfully, his knees were bothering him on this stormy night, and he was about ready to collapse from exhaustion anyway, so he turned his hips slightly and sat heavily in the chair across from her, his hand moving instinctively for his coffee cup, he lifted it to his lips, letting his eyes swirl with the tiny bubbles that lined the outside of his cup.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fingers, worrying away at one another, her fingernails lightly running over her skin as she focused on them instead of anything else. He could not just by her movements, but by the way she was sitting, that she was feeling incredibly uncomfortable and was finding it very difficult to use her words in any way to express herself. He sipped the dark liquid, now tepid and bitter, and he found himself thinking silently that it was exactly how he was feeling, tepid and bitter.

"You left me once." Her voice was so small and nearly whispered, her eyes were now on his face, and she waited patiently for his eyes to meet hers, whether it be to confront her on her accusation, or to have him confirm it. She straightened in her seat and pulled the mug of tea closer to her chest, her hands holding the mug on both side as it warmed her fingers, and she watched his focus remain on the coffee in his mug. "You did leave me."

"It wasn't the same, Bones."

"It was worse." She whispered.

"It wasn't my fault." He said, lifting his eyes to meet hers, she could see the way his jaw was set, that this conversation had the potential to go nowhere, extremely quickly if she didn't think quickly on her feet and use her debate skills properly. "We have had this discussion many, many times, Bones."

"No." She shook her head, never losing eye contact with him, she moved her hand to the table, her finger pointing outward toward him, she pushed it into the table as she narrowed her eyes just slightly. "We discussed blame, and we discussed circumstance… and we determined that you had done what you felt was your responsibility by informing the bureau of who should and shouldn't be contacted." She said, watching his head nod slightly. "We discussed that in the future, any missions such as that one would be handled in a completely different manner, and that you, yourself… would be the one to inform me of the circumstances surrounding the ruse of your death." She stated, her eyes still burning into his.

"Yes." He said, his brow knitting slightly as he watched her shoulders drop suddenly, and her demeanor become completely transparent in just the words that she was speaking, and she paused as he acknowledged what she had said, and he waited, for he knew that there was more, and she was just winding herself up like one of those cheap metal wind-up toys, that always seemed to rear back just a bit before you let them loose, and like one of those wind-up toys, he was careful not to twist too hard, for he knew that if he did, the springs would become loose, and that toy wouldn't move an inch, and neither would this conversation. The pause wafted in the air innocently, and he wanted to say her name, but knew that the push would be too much.

Her eyes shifted just then, to the pattern on the table and her finger, moving loosely around in circles, he could feel his stomach twisting uncomfortably suddenly, and the smell of the pie sitting in front of him was beginning to make him feel nauseous. Her hand turned palm side up, and her fingers moved as if she were beckoning him. He couldn't help but lean in just a little as her head tipped, and her eyes finally lifted to his. "But we never talked about what I went through in the two weeks that I thought that you were dead." She watched as he placed the mug of coffee on the table, pushing it to the side along with the plate of pie as if it were an offending object, as if it was blocking some secret that was hiding within the worn table as he set his fingers down onto its surface and rubbed it lightly with his fingertips.

"You said that you dealt with it." He said, leaning forward slightly, he watched her flinch a little at his words, words that she had used to describe it. "You said that you moved past it."

"And you believed that?" She whispered, biting the side of her mouth to inflict a sting of pain, she wanted to remind herself that she was indeed awake, and they were most certainly having this conversation.

"Honestly?" He asked, tipping his head, he let his fingers fold together, hand threading hand as he kept intense eye contact with her. "I hoped that it had affected you, simply because we were close, are close… I had hoped that you would react to my death, though at the time I was angrier that Sweets didn't tell you, and I didn't particularly worry about your reaction, at that time. Occasionally it crosses my mind, however."

"I did cry, if that makes you feel any better to know that. I drank alcohol, I worked… though not at the same time, I should add." She said, her face was perfectly serious, but her eyes had dropped to the table, where her hands were dancing around the mug, and the tabletop. She stared at her hands as they gripped the mug, and her words hung in the air. She hadn't expected it, but his fingers disentangled from one another, and she watched as they slid across the table to her wrist, peeling her fingertips from their spot on her mug of tea, he dipped his fingers into her soft palm, and gripped it steadfastly.

"It doesn't make me feel better knowing that you cried." He whispered. "It was never my intention to make you cry, ever."

"I was broken when I thought you were dead, Booth, that reality was hard enough… and the reality of knowing that you were alive, and I had been deceived… that was painful… but what really broke me, Booth… the real source of anguish and pain for me," she said, looking up at him, their eyes finally meeting once again, and he saw the pain sitting so real on the edge of her eyelids, so raw and transparent, she held his gaze. "The real source of the pain of that experience was in the realization that I really could lose you… just like that, in a heart-beat, in a gunshot, in just one false move of a suspect, Booth, that could be it… it's that simple."

"Bones." He whispered, and he felt her hand squeeze his as a teardrop escaped her eye, trailing down her cheek, he wanted nothing more than to reach up and capture it on his fingertip, but that would mean he'd have to release her hand, and he was not prepared to do that.

"And I know." She sniffled, breaking eye contact for a split second, she lifted her loose hand to swipe at the tear. "I know that it's irrational to live your life based on the inevitability of death, and I know it's wrong to base your decisions of love and commitment around the possibility of losing someone… because everyone dies… everyone will die one day… I mean I work with death every day, every day I see another body of another person who was once a human being with thoughts and dreams and feelings and hopes… and sadness of their own. I see it every day, and it doesn't make things easier, it doesn't make things easier to know that we all end up as a pile of bones or ash, or that our hearts that we hold so coveted… are just a mass of flesh and muscle that eventually deteriorates into nothing… But… that moment when they told me that you were gone, it was very bad… and the days following were even worse… and I think that I handled it as well as I could… at the time."

"But you've changed." Booth whispered, his response blurted out clearly, before she could get that exact thought through her mind and to her lips. "You've changed."

"Yes."

"And now you're afraid that you will lose me again."

"I almost did… and this time it was real, it was so very real." She shook her head as she stared at their intertwined hands. "You asked me why I left you in your time of need." She said, feeling the rough skin of his hands beneath her fingertips, she rubbed her thumb across the outside of his hand, and he did the same, their tender flesh massaged by one another's fingertips as she worked up the courage to continue. "I told you of the book that I was writing when you were in your coma, right?" She looked up at him for a second.

"The one I dreamt about."

"Yes." She said, dropping her eyes to their hands again, she continued to softly rub his hand with her thumb.

"I wrote it… in an attempt to get myself through your stay at the hospital, through the waiting, because it was just… I knew you were there, Booth… beneath the surface. I knew that you were hiding somewhere in your body, and all you needed was a little push to get you through, to get you to wake up. I wrote it because I wanted to feel close to you, I needed to be connected to you even though you were lying there on that bed. I could hear you breathing, and see your face, and I was so hurt, so alone… that when I thought I was finished, I looked up at you and I knew that what I had written was all just a figment of my own fear and imagination… so I deleted it."

"You told me that." He nodded.

"I deleted it before you were awake. I deleted it before I knew you were awake… because… I was scared, and I knew that we lived a very, very dangerous lifestyle… and that those things that I wrote about were of fantasies and romances and things that could never be. So I deleted it, with the thought that once you woke, we could return to normal… Brennan and Booth, partners."

"And I woke up."

"And you woke up." She laughed humorlessly, her eyes flashing to his before returning to their hands. "You woke up, and you were… completely immersed in a fictional world that you took from my writing, and from your own thoughts… and you took me from being your partner, your feelings for me, and mine for you… hiding in the shadows of our protection of one another, and you put the spotlight right on it, drowning it in fictional nicknames and babies that were fictional and unborn… to love that you knew was there, but for so long you never expressed because you were protecting me… and this dream you had took all of that armor that you had carefully constructed and it stripped it away, leaving you defenseless to your own feelings and thoughts… and I couldn't take it."

"My weaknesses? You left because of my weaknesses?"

"No! No… no, not at all." She squeezed his hands and tried to reassure him, her eyes staring directly into his, falling deeply into those eternal gates of brown, she held his gaze. "I left because of my own weaknesses. I was still me, and you were no longer yourself. You were weak, not in strength of body, but strength of mind… and you were so vulnerable, so lost in this fantasy world, that I knew that if I stayed, that I would take advantage of it, I would try to fall into that fantasy with you, and then, when your brain worked out the difference between the truth and what was fantasy… you would believe that I had deceived you, or taken advantage of you. I needed to leave, because if I stayed, I am afraid that I would have taken advantage of you."

"But you could have controlled yourself." He whispered.

"No." She shook her head, those blue eyes still falling, still piercing. "I didn't want to control myself, Booth. I wanted to lose myself in you, but I didn't want you to resent me for it." She whispered.


	6. Liquid Courage

A long, foreboding silence filled the air, and all that he could hear was the rushing of the blood in his ears for several moments after her confession. His eyes had dropped to their hands, still entwined, still rubbing delicately into the other, still a soft and tender touch, a connection, something to bring them together in this moment of complete and utter confusion and, dare he say it, limbo. His eyes were on their hands, grasped together in a moment of explicit comfort, and when her thumb stopped moving over his skin, he felt a chill move from her hand to his, a hardly visible tremble of fear that she had said the wrong thing. Before that chill could reach her lips, he lifted his eyes to hers, and just when he thought that he'd be the first to utter a response, her voice erupted from her lips.

"You say that you've known." She said, her eyes imploring his. "Does that mean that you have known the depth of my feelings all of this time?" She asked sincerely, his hand squeezed hers instinctively, almost as if he felt that she needed a little tug to get the words to exit her lips. "You say that you've known from the beginning." She whispered. "If you've known for all of these years, Booth..." She swallowed hard. "Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

She watched his eyes dart to the table, his loose hand now flat on its surface, he seemed to be studying his fingernails for a moment. She knew that he needed to think before he spoke, that this airing of grievances was not an easy task for him, so she gave him time to focus on his thoughts, because she knew that it was eating away at him, she knew how he punished himself with silence, and she could tell by the way that his jaw was set, that he had many things to say, but was unsure of what order he should put them in. He looked up at her at that moment and his eyes were filled with insecurity and hurt, and she squeezed his hand because she wasn't sure that she didn't cause that pain.

"Let's get out of here." He whispered to her, his voice cracking just a bit as he squeezed her fingertips in his large hand, bringing his other hand to grasp it too. "It's only after midnight, come get a drink with me."

"Booth, we're soaking wet."

"It's just water, Bones… we'll dry off."

"You didn't eat your pie." She said, nodding her head toward the slice sitting on the plate beside him, long since forgotten, just as their coffee and tea had been.

"I have more important things to be concerned about than discarded baked goods, Bones." He said, tipping his head to the side just slightly, she was sure she had seen the beginnings of a smile on his lips. "Have a drink with me, Bones." He said, watching a bit of a fire ignite in her eyes as she watched those brown eyes work their magic. "What's the worst that could happen?" His words were meant as an innocent goad, but they both knew the implications behind his words, the possibilities when inhibitions were lowered. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to." He said, making himself busy with his wallet, he dropped several dollars on the table and looked up at her, catching a stark sense of vulnerability, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand, and her head snapped in his direction, her mouth opening just slightly as if she were surprised by his action. "I haven't forgotten about your questions." He said, moving his hand slightly, it was repositioned as she gripped his hand tightly, holding fast to it as they moved in synchronicity through the diner, and out of the door, their hands clasped nervously together without a moment of pause.

* * *

They entered the bar together, their hands still entwined as they shuffled past several couples and other bar consumers that stared after the soaking couple who cared nothing of anything but to find an empty booth. Luckily, hiding in the corner, beneath a dim light, and the unhealthy cloud of cigarette smoke that hung in the air, they found a booth that had just been emptied of its occupants. She spotted it first, taking the lead, she tugged at his arm with a sense of need as he circled around and sat on the wooden bench across from her, letting his body hit the unpadded wood with an unceremonious slap, he released her hand for a moment as they both pulled their jackets off, and deposited them in the corner of the booth beside them.

"What did you want to drink?" She asked, her hand reaching across the table, where it was met halfway by his, almost as if she thought that their connection would disappear if the physical contact stopped, or perhaps it provided some sort of comfort in knowing that as long as he held her hand, he was accepting her, listening to her, helping her, loving her. As long as they kept that connection, there was nothing to fear, and the way that he was looking at her across the table right now, she knew that he was holding her feelings and fears so close to his heart, it was crushing her to see that look in his eyes, so when the waitress appeared at their side, and asked her the exact same words that she had just uttered to Booth, she looked up and let her mouth drop for a moment as the words melted into her mind, and before she could stop them, as if she even wanted to, she uttered eight words that nearly made Booth's heart stop.

"Two shot glasses, and a bottle of Tequila." She said, her eyes never leaving the waitresses, and her hand never leaving Booth's.

"You're sure?" The waitress asked as she gave a cursory glance at the condition of the two customers.

Brennan let her eyes flick to her partner, his eyes on the waitress as the corner of his lip slid up to a lopsided grin. "She's sure." He said, looking away from the waitress, he caught her eyes, and the gentle squeeze of her hand as she gave him a dazzling smile that warmed every inch of his body at that very moment. The waitress disappeared to get their order, and their other hands met across the table as well, holding on so tightly, it was as if they thought the other would fall if they released it.

"I'm sure." She whispered.


	7. Seven Deadly Sins

Nothing needed to be said, and the bar was fairly busy, locals and regulars lining the walls and the barstools at the bar, a couple of celebrations were wearing into the night, and it seemed like a fairly busy evening for the bar. Booth and Brennan kept focused on one another, their fingers knotted together as the noise and chaos around them disintegrated. After a moment or two, the waitress returned with a freshly opened bottle of tequila, and two shot glasses. She asked if they needed anything, and both responded with an unintelligible grunt that appeared to mean that they were fine, just perfectly fine with their booth and their hands entwined, their eyes locked, and a bottle of booze sitting between them, waiting for one of them to make a move for it.

His right hand reached for the bottle, and her left reached up and grabbed his hand as it settled on the neck, their eyes battling for a moment. "Before you pour," She paused. "I want you to understand that anything that happens from this point on is not because of tequila."

"Bones." He said, his head tilting in an 'all knowing' manner, his eyes narrowing as he watched her carefully. They were both fairly tired, and any consumption of alcohol was going to loosen their tongues to the point where words that they never thought would be uttered, would come forth, even he knew that. "You never say, or do anything that you haven't thought about first."

"Well, tonight isn't about thinking." She said, pulling the bottle from his grasp, she yanked off the cap and poured a shot glass full for each one of them. "Tonight is about drinking." She said, setting the bottle down, she lifted the shot glass in a toast. He watched her for a moment before he lifted the shot glass up, surprised when she pulled it from him, a look of determination in her eyes. "We're going to do this the right way."

"And what is the right way?" He challenged, that bit of fire in her eyes only motivating him further into the cavern of uncertainty he was allowing her to lead him down. "I trust you." He said, the words instantly softening her stare, he watched as a second of vulnerability flashed in her eyes, before the challenge reappeared at full force.

"The right way…" She whispered. "Seven deadly sins."

"Excuse me?" He asked, a bit of humor dancing on his tongue as he watched her eyebrows raise.

"Seven deadly sins. We drink with the confession of each sin…"

"What about the seven virtues?" He whispered.

"To claim ones virtue, is to admit to vice… and to admit vice, is virtuous." She exclaimed, raising her glass, he gave her a sideways glance and clinked the glass together, as they each brought the glass to their lips, swallowing down the warm liquid simultaneously.

"I don't understand." He said, coughing a bit on the bitter liquid still clinging to his tongue. "What did that have to do with the seven deadly sins?" He said, his eyes watering as he caught his breath.

"By admitting that you have virtues, you are confessing to the sin of pride." She replied, squinting at him, clearly unaffected by the drink she had just devoured, she watched him across the table and grabbed the bottle, quickly pouring each of them a shot.

"Wait." He said, holding his hand out, he grabbed the neck of the bottle to keep her from pouring. "You need to confess to the sin of pride." He said, watching her blue eyes lift from the glass she was being prevented from pouring into and caught his eyes. "We all are victims of our own pride." He whispered.

"You want me to confess?"

"Yes… you took the drink, you need to confess… and you can't just say that you think you're better than everyone, because I know that it's all an act."

"But I am smarter than many people."

"Yes." He said, nodding. "You are… but you never think that you're better than anyone. You always hold doubt…"

"Booth." She shook her head as she pulled the bottle from him, and he reached across and put his hand on hers.

"Confess." He said, with his eyes so set on hers, that she felt a chill down her spine. "It's just you and me, Bones…"

"I often… will… not admit when I am wrong about something unless I am proven otherwise." She said, stammering a bit, struggling for the words, she wasn't sure exactly of how to continue.

"I need more." He replied. "Pride, Bones… Pride…"

"I allow my knowledge and my expertise to cloud my true feelings toward those around me." She stated quickly, her eyes darting back to the bottle, his hand still resting on hers, battling for control of it. "That's it."

"That's not it, Bones. Tell me." He said, trying to find her eyes. "It's just you and me."

"Fine." She stated, her eyes now boring into his. "I hide behind my professional persona so that I won't have to admit to myself how your presence affects me physically, emotionally, and mentally." She said, bluntly. "I very often will use my intelligence as a weapon against pain… and very often, you are the target." She whispered. "I'm sorry."

"To envy." Booth said, wrangling the bottle from his partner, he quickly poured the next glasses, watching her stunned expression as he set the bottle down hard onto the table, reached over and carefully slid the shot glass toward her, watching her brow furrow in confusion. "I always envy your brain, Bones… how you can hold all of that knowledge, all of that expertise, all of those big fancy words." He winked, a cocky smile on his face. "You're the smartest person I know, Bones… and in the past… I have also been guilty of envy of my peers."

"Booth." She whispered, seeing the look in his eyes as he revealed the hurt in his eyes.

"Sully, Hacker… I was envious of them… the type of attention you gave them, while keeping me on the sidelines… it was my own fault, keeping my feelings at bay… it was my own fault… but I was envious… so fucking envious of them." He said, lifting the shot glass to his lips, he kept eye contact on her the entire time, swallowing down the liquor quickly, as he let the glass smack the table, his adam's apple bobbing as he tried to remain in control of his emotions, the tears in his eyes were partially from the liquor, and she could see that it was partially from his struggle with control of the situation. She reached across the table immediately and rested her hand on his, though instead of taking notice of that, he nodded toward the other shot glass, coaxing her into taking that drink.

"You know what I am envious of, I had admitted it."

"This is your game, Bones. You came up with it, it's only fair that you play by the rules. Confess." He said, his voice not slurring just yet, but she could see the liquor was making his skin warm, his cheeks flushed just a bit.

"I am envious of your heart… the way that…" She swallowed and looked at her hand, tapping lightly at the shot glass in her hand. "I'm…" She then quickly brought the glass to her lips, tipped her head back and drank down the shot in one swallow, her hand swinging down to smack the shot glass onto the table, her eyes met his. "I'm envious of how you can love so purely without expectation."

"What does that mean?"

"You poured your heart out to me, and when I crushed it, you walked away." She whispered.

"You're envious of that?" He whispered.

"I'm envious of your ability to pour your heart out to me in the first place… the other part was cowardly." She said honestly, watching a flash of pain cross his face. "You spend this long with someone you love, you give me everything in a speech… every opportunity to admit that I love you back… you try, you push, you expect and don't receive… and when I pushed you away, you still vowed to stay with me as my partner… and say you're going to move on… I envy your strength." She said, tears in her eyes that were clearly not from the liquor.

"I am not strong. I couldn't move on."

"Because you lied." She whispered. "You lied to yourself, and you lied to me… and you never answered my question, Booth.

"To gluttony." Booth said, sliding the shot glass to her, he glared across the table, sitting back hard against the booth, he watched her stare at him in confusion. "Just pour the drink, Bones."

"I don't understand."

"You will." He whispered as he watched her pour the glass of tequila, he was just beginning to feel the liquor running through his blood. It felt warm and secure, the damp clothes that were sticking to his body were no longer a bother, his eyes focused solely on hers, the moment she lifted them to his. She took her glass in her hand and furrowed her brow, swallowing hard as he lifted his glass to hers, and tapped it against hers. "You and me, Bones… we're gluttons for punishment." He said, watching her jaw slack a bit, her eyes narrowed as he lifted the glass to his lips, knocking back that shot as quickly as he could, he dropped his head to look at her face, noting that the glass was still settled at her bottom lip, her eyes still narrowed in a challenging stare. "What?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She asked, putting the glass to the table, she watched a sardonic smile lift onto his lips. "Glutton for punishment…"

"I have been keeping my feelings for you hidden since the moment I met you, Bones… I have sat through boyfriends, affairs, crushes… a man who wanted to take you away on a friggin' boat, Bones! He was going to sail off into the sunset with you! My partner! My best friend! And what did I do?"

"You told me to…"

"That's fucking right." Booth said, slamming his fist onto the table, he shook his head. "I told you to go… and do you know why I told you to go?"

"No."

"Because I love you, Bones… and I want you to be happy." He said simply, leaning in closer, he watched her face as she leaned in closer to him. "I let you have my sperm for Christ's sake, Bones… I… gave you… I… was willing to…" He stammered and he pointed at her. "Just drink the goddamned shot." He said, slamming back into his seat, he shook his head.

"How am I a glutton for punishment?" She asked, confused at his definition.

"You won't let yourself love me." He said simply. That was all he said, but his eyes were burning into hers, and he was saying so much more that she knew that he wanted to say, but would break her, and he wasn't trying to break her. He leaned forward slowly, watching her fingertips drum against the glass absentmindedly, and his forehead cleared of that frustration that he was feeling, and when he found himself leaning against the table, his eyes boring into hers, his pupils dilated, his tongue darting over his lips, where he could still taste the bitter flavor of the tequila shot that he had just downed. "You told me that you were protecting me from you, Bones… but you were only protecting yourself… from you."

"I don't…"

"You understand, Bones… don't you dare tell me that you don't understand." He whispered toward her, watching her eyes widen slightly at his forwardness, he leaned very close to her, so close that she could feel his breath tickling her skin.

"I told you that I love you, Bones… I said that I…"

"No." She stopped him, his eyes focused on hers with a staunch disbelief that she almost thought that if he were the type of man to raise his hand he would slap her. "You did not say those words." She said, daring him to say otherwise, she watched his eyes as his mind moved through each millisecond of that evening on those steps. "Not once did you say that to me."

"But you know, Bones! What the hell do you think I meant by what I said? What do you think I meant?"

"I don't know." She whispered. This was the moment that he could see the despair in her eyes, he could see the conflict and fear arising once again, and he needed to stop it.

"Drink the shot, Bones." He whispered. "Look me in the eyes… and tell me that you're hurting yourself… admit it, I see it. Tell me the truth. Why won't you tell me the truth, tell me, Bones… Tell me…" He goaded again and again, and he could see her eyes filling with tears, and he was breaking his own heart by doing this, but he knew that deep down the only way he could get her to spill her true feelings was to push, to keep pushing, because he had earned this, he had earned this truth to come from her lips, and she had been holding back for so long that the walls she had built had this seemingly unbreakable foundation. But he could see it, he could see that dam beginning to crack, he could see the flood gates beginning to open, he just needed to find that one thing that he could say that would make it happen. "Drink the shot, Bones… drink the shot, because you're just hurting yourself… you're hurting me, you're hurting us… and you're just hurting yourself…Drink the shot, Bones."

"Stop it." She said, swallowing hard, she shook her head, a teardrop falling down her cheek, she can see how he's trying to be tough, he's trying to stand up for himself, and her at the same time, and she had absolutely no idea where to go with it, what to say, what to do, her brain was firing at lightning speed, and the more he spoke, the more she wanted and needed to take that shot.

"For God's sake, Bones." He growled as he leaned up, his face just inches from hers as their eyes clashed in a passionate anger, hers angry that he was pushing, and his that she wasn't breaking. "You had the fucking nerve to ask me to stay your partner after you reached into my chest, grabbed my heart and squeezed it with all of your strength before you smashed it under your fucking heel and skipped it across the fucking reflecting pool… what do you have to say for yourself? How is that not a glutton for punishment? How does it feel to be beside the man you crushed every moment of your day?" He growled, as he suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder, sharp and angry, pushing him away as her other hand swung up and she downed that shot of tequila like it was a glass of water, watching him fall hard onto his bench, she slammed the shot glass down and glared at him wordlessly, grabbing the bottle of tequila tightly in her hand, she needed a moment to get her bearings. "Do you hate me?" He whispered.

"Never." She replied, a touch of venom to her answer, but nothing more. "Which brings us to our next sin." She whispered, keeping her eyes on the glasses, she reached for his, and was immediately surprised by his hand landing on hers. She lifted her eyes to his, and could see the sorrow within them, that had replaced the intensity just moments before.

"I'm sorry." He replied.

"Greed." She said, pulling her hand and his shot glass from beneath his hand, she poured his glass sloppily, allowing the liquid to pour out onto her hand a bit as she held the glass, she lifted her fingers to her lips and suckled at her index finger for a moment absentmindedly, her eyes woozily finding his as she gave him a lopsided grin. She was obviously feeling the tequila, for she suckled on her finger for several moments without notice, her eyes locked with his as he watched the extremely sexual gesture with an expression akin to wanton lust. She smiled at him, her eyes crinkling in the corner as she poured her own shot of tequila, careful now not to spill, though almost wishing for the moment to tease him once again. "Greed!" She said again, holding the glass up to him, she waited for him to lift his to her, he tipped his head, so she decided to continue. "Because I'm so guilty of keeping myself protected… from the damn fine man across from me who is willing to lay down his own life for me, his family, his loved ones… you put that damn shot glass down, Seeley Booth, because you're not greedy… you give… you give, and give…" She said, shaking her head, she could feel the tears start to fall down her cheeks and she couldn't stop them.

"God, Bones… No…" he said, putting his shot glass down, he immediately stood up and moved to the other side of the booth, where she now sit, her head in the crook of her elbow, her shot glass still raised. She pushed away from him, spilling some of the tequila from the shot glass, she tried to lift it to her lips. "No, Bones…we're done with the game…" He said, trying to get the glass from her hand, she struggled a bit, the tequila spilling over the edge of the glass, he held his arm around her. "We're done with the game…"

"It's not a game, Booth." She exclaimed, finally slamming the shot down, the amber liquid in the glass swirling and splashing on her hand and the table as she pushed against him, pushed herself against the wall, and lifted her feet onto the booth, her heels discarded under the table, her cold, stocking clad feet pushed into his leg. "It's not a game… it's not a game… these are my sins, Goddamn it… these are things that I have done that only prove that I should be alone!" She whispered angrily to him, noting that there were several people looking in their direction, she could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I take advantage of people, I don't understand anything… I don't know how to love, Booth…" She whispered, leaning forward a little. "I don't know how to love, I told you… I don't know how to…"

"Which is why I am guilty of Sloth." He said, reaching forward, he grabbed her shot glass and downed it. "Because I am the ass that should be showing it to you, and proving it to you… and giving you evidence." He coughed, swallowing hard, he felt tears threatening to fall as he tugged at her arm. "Come here…"

"You're not slothful, I am greedy and I won't let you show me." She said, reaching for the bottle, he practically knocked it out of her hand.

"Enough tequila." He whispered, pulling her into him, her head resting on his shoulder. "You had enough tequila…" He slurred as he rested his head on hers. "We've both had enough…"

"I've not had enough." She slurred gently into his shoulder, her fingers moving across the table, she was feeling so incredibly dizzy, and his scent was intoxicating. "I've not had enough." She whispered.

"We've both had more than enough, Bones." He whispered, kissing the top of her head, he held her close for several moments, until he realized where her hand had traveled as they daintily danced over his 'cocky' belt buckle. "Bones…" He shook his head, reaching for her hand, she slapped his sharply and he pulled it back.

"Shh…"

"Bones, we're in public, and we're both…"

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm also guilty of a sixth sin." She whispered, "One we haven't mentioned."

"Wrath?" He whispered, moving uncomfortably as her fingertip grazed over the belt buckle again and again. "Bones…?"

"Mm… not wrath… though… your brother knows my wrath." She whispered softly.

"Let's not talk about my brother when your hand is… where your hand is…"

"Can you guess the seventh deadly sin?" She whispered, she lifted her hand up, holding it palm side up as she waited, their eyes meeting in a conversation of understanding.

He very slowly placed his hand onto hers, their eyes not breaking their intense stare, their bodies keeping one another warm, along with the liquor coursing through their bodies. "Do you want me to get you a cab, Bones?" He whispered, the sincerity in his eyes so genuine and pure.

"I want you to get us a cab, Booth." She whispered. "We still have to discover the seven virtues, and I prefer if we do that together."


	8. No Time for Pride

Upon exiting the Founding Father's, Booth fumbled with his phone to find the number for the cab company. He held his arm around her shoulder, partly for support, partly out of comfort, and mostly because he just needed that physical connection. He leaned against the brick building for a moment, pulling her around into him, her face pressing into his jacket, breathing in the strong masculine odor that he always seemed to be emitting. She felt safe in his arms, warm, and if it weren't for the liquor running rampant through her system, she wouldn't be there right then like this. She felt his lips on her temple, mumbling something about reception, when she turned and literally snatched the phone from his hand.

"If you haven't found a cab by now… then we don't need one." She said, holding the phone out of his reach, she simply slipped it into her pocket.

"Neither of us can drive, Bones." He said, his eyes moving from one direction to the other, he kept his voice to a low rumble. He ran his tongue over his lips, they tasted of sweat and tequila, and he imagined what they would taste like if she would just let him run his lips across hers. She noticed where his eyes had landed, and as if she had some sort of evil plot to drive him mad, he watched as her plump lips rose to a tender smile, and her pink tongue darted out over them, causing his body to react in a way that he was not unfamiliar with, especially when it came to his partner.

"The sky is clear now, let's walk." She said, tucking her arm into the crook of his, she leaned her head lazily on his shoulder, allowing her cheek to run over the fabric for a moment as she looked up directly into his eyes.

"Would it be too forward of me to tell you that you are the most beautiful woman that I have ever met?" He asked, his words slurring slightly, his eyes sparkling the truth back to her and he felt her arm tighten around his and her eyes moved toward the pavement in a rare moment of bashful hiding. He thought for a moment to say it again, to reiterate that he was merely speaking the truth, and that his mind was no longer using the filter that it had so carefully made sure to use in each and every conversation of theirs, but he chose not to. Now was not the time for explanation or words, now was the time for concentrating on the road ahead, or in this case, the sidewalk as they walked peacefully away from the bar that they had so often claimed as their personal haven away from the lab, the office, or the diner.

He listened to the sound of her shoes clacking against the wet concrete, slow and steady, her feet hit the ground, he ensured that each step was solid and straight, for he knew that the tequila that was coursing through their blood was a sure way to lose balance and twist an ankle, or stumble over a crack in the sidewalk. "I was surprised that you agreed to walk." She said, keeping her voice soft enough for him to have to crane is neck down beside her lips, she repeated her sentence and smiled at his closeness.

"I think that a walk will do us good." He nodded in agreement. "It can help us clear our heads, get the alcohol through our blood a little quicker." He said, watching her nod, her eyes on the ground as they walked. "Did you have any particular place in mind?" He asked, feeling a bit of resistance as she stopped, he waited. She looked up at him, and there was a long pause as her eyes sparkled at him from the streetlights above. They were glassy and a bit unfocused from the liquor, but she found his eyes very easily.

"I want to find the seven virtues." She whispered.

"You want to find the seven virtues?" He asked, a humored chuckle dancing on his tongue as she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, focusing a little clearer, she tried to determine if he was being sincere, or if he was making fun of her. She saw the warmth in his eyes with no sign of teasing, his arm still tight around hers. "Tonight?"

"Now." She replied. "I want to find them now."

With that response, he carefully pulled his arm straight, dropping her arm from his as he turned his body toward her. It was a quiet night, the rain from earlier had sent everyone indoors for the night, and the only sound that could be heard was the occasional car whisking down the wet street, oblivious of the couple standing on the sidewalk beside the brick building on that street corner. All he heard was her breath, short and rushed as she questioned him with her eyes, his hand moving immediately for her hand, which she gave him without a second thought.

Their eyes met across the air, the electricity between them was nearly enough to bring them each to their knees, he then dropped her hand, his eyes following the look of confusion as he raised his large hands to her arms, where he rested them gently, his eyes gently imploring hers. "What's wrong?" She whispered, feeling the brick wall behind her, she was fairly sure she knew what he wanted, and she was not going to stop him, not this time.

"I think that I am going insane." He whispered, watching a cloud of confusion move over her eyes. He could see that she was expecting something different, a different response, a different reaction. She was not expecting this confession, and for a moment he wondered if she understood, that this was only the beginning.

"I don't know what that…" Her words were cut off by his mouth covering hers, and for a split second, she found herself frozen. Her hands were once again on his chest, but this time, they weren't pushing back, he was pushing her back against the brick wall, and he could feel the tension in her arms as he tilted his head to continue his gentle massage of her lips with his own. His eyes were closed as he breathed through his nose, waiting for a reaction, waiting for movement, waiting for failure or acceptance, one or the other, now. He needed it now.

_Now._

_Now._

And as if she could sense his urgency, the hands on his chest clenched suddenly, and she took a breath as she pulled him closer into him, slipping her tongue lazily into his mouth, she could taste that bitter flavor of tequila, mixed with the air of his masculinity that she managed to maintain control of herself and not topple him right there in the street. He pushed his body against her, taking her reaction as leverage for his own desire, he pushed a little harder, and she pulled a little more, until he broke the kiss reluctantly and buried his face in her neck for a moment.

He was breathing heavily, his hot breath raking over her skin, making every second of standing even more difficult as her back pressed into the wall, her hands still grasping his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping her standing. He kept his forehead against her shoulder for a moment, hands still resting on her arms, and he just stood there for a moment, and she wasn't sure if he felt dizzy, or sick… or if he was just trying to keep his composure. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but no words would come, and her breath raked across his skin raggedly, as she very slowly lifted her arms from his shirt, sliding her palms up, her right arm wrapped around the back of his neck, she felt him shift as her left arm lifted to meet the other behind his neck. She pulled herself up, resting her chin on his shoulder, and he moved his arms around her waist, pulling her into him tightly. They were lost in the moment, each of their eyes clenched tightly as their hearts beat together, finally, in harmony, and she lost the grip on her fingers behind his neck as she pushed herself back against the wall, opening her eyes to see that his were still closed, but his arms were still around her.

"Why are your eyes still closed?" She whispered.

"Because if I open them, you'll disappear."

"Booth?"

"Hmm…?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"What do you promise?"

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere. I am right here… and I'm not going anywhere." She said, leaning forward just enough to rest her forehead on his. There was a pause, a long pause, and she waited patiently for him, for she knew that his actions were illogical and ridiculous. He knew that she was standing right there, and if she had any intentions to push him away now, she would have done it, tequila or no tequila. "I promise." She whispered, just has his eyes opened, wide and seeing, almost tear filled, and now that her eyes were on his, a lopsided grin lit up her face, and her blue eyes remained on his as she took a slow, deep breath. "I promise." She said again, watching as finally, his eyes smiled back at hers.


	9. No Doubt

"You're still here." His voice was a whisper on the breeze, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and his lips were parted just so, his tongue slowly dancing over his lower lip, wetting it with his saliva as he tasted her tequila soaked lips on his own. She smiled at the sound of surprise in his voice, the slight raise of eyebrows that only proved his genuine surprise.

"I'm still here." She whispered just as softly, her own eyebrows lifting, though more in anticipation of what was to come. Her eyes darted to his lips, watching that tongue slide over his lips, there was a sense of jealousy deep in her belly that wished that I were her tongue that was moving over that lip, that it was her taste buds that were sliding over that delicious piece of flesh. She didn't recognize it as jealousy, only as desire, a deep hunger that started in the tips of her toes and warmed her to her lips where his had touched her, burning the memory into her skin.

His hands moved to hers, gently taking them both in his, he touched her tender flesh soothingly, allowing his thumbs to run over her skin, he very slowly lifted her hand, his eyes on hers the entire time. "I have so many secrets that I want to share with you."

"Secrets?" She whispered, surprised at this confession. He nodded his head, bringing her hand to his lips, he closed his eyes as he pressed her lips to her skin, leaving behind a small, moistened patch of skin as his lids fluttered open, and the corner of his lips rose to a shy smile.

"So many secrets." He said, twisting his hand gently, he watched her eyes as he dropped her hand into his, and turned slowly at first as he took a step away from her, his hand still grasping hers, he tugged lightly.

"Where are we going?" She asked curiously, a sudden need to be even closer to him, their hand holding now made her shiver with the thought of how it felt to have him even closer, his body pressed against hers.

He was facing her, her blue eyes lifting to his and he paused for a moment. "Are you cold?" He asked. "We don't have to walk if…"

"No." She said, her voice eagerly stopping his thought process before he continued, before logic was brought into the moment, before something that made logical sense ruined the moment. No. There was no time for logic.

Not now.

Not after everything that was so absolutely, completely, beyond a doubt, perfect that had happened since she had walked from the confines of the sanctuary of her lab had been so flawlessly illogical.

There was no time for logic.

"I am not cold." She whispered, her eyes stabbing into him like icy daggers. She wanted to make herself abundantly clear. "I am not cold, I promise." She said, speaking those two words at the end of the sentence, she watched the brilliant smile that rose on his lips and shook her head as she tilted it, letting out a puff of a laugh. "What?"

"Then let's go." He said, he turned and began to walk, letting his arm stretch behind him lazily as he tugged a bit.

It took her a moment to get going, but soon after, she was trailing alongside him, but for an inch or two behind, she watched the eagerness in his step and laughed to herself, she thought in her mind, how it resembled the eagerness of a child who had been told they were going to be getting a toy, or gift for having been well behaved. She only knew that she had laughed outside, when he stopped suddenly, her body nearly colliding with his own and he tilted his head with childlike wonder. "What are you laughing about?" He asked, a laugh hiding in his own voice, he watched her eyebrows arise in surprise. "I love your laugh."

"I assume that is why you say such amusing things sometimes." She said, listening to her words, she suddenly felt self conscious. She chastised herself for saying such a childish thing, something so ridiculous and revealing of her own naivety. She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, and wondered for a moment when she had suddenly become shy around him.

He did not miss this change, this pause of words and obvious self conscious thought, and he picked up on it immediately in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment she was feeling, as if his words alone would rescue from the ridiculous hell that she, herself had caused herself with her own careless stupidity. "I would walk a million miles just to hear your smile."

"Booth." She said, stopping him in confusion, she didn't feel the logic leap into her mind, and before she could stop it, the words were out there. "You cannot 'hear' a smile… you see a smile…"

And without pause or want of any other words, he let out a joyful laugh. "You try to tell me right now, that you can't hear the smile in my voice, Bones. Maybe not the smile on my face… but the smile in my heart, in my soul. Tell me that you don't hear it when I talk to you. I hear it." He said, squeezing her hand in his own, he waited for her to work it through her mind, to grasp onto his reality instead of her own. It didn't take long, but for a moment.

"I hear it." She whispered.

"And I hear the smile in your heart." He said, his tone daring her to question that.

But she didn't.

For her heart was smiling, and of that, there was no doubt.


	10. Knowing is Loving

They walked in absolute silence, together down the sidewalk. He steered her from potholes and puddles, and she steered him from the edge of the curb when their thoughtless steps would carry them too close to the road. There was no need for conversation as the evening turned into night, the clouds above had cleared for the most part, and the moon was making its appearance. There were several benches along the way, the opportunity to sit, but they were all soaked with raindrops, or victims of the trees above and their windblown aftershocks of raindrops, falling onto the unsuspecting passersby.

He thought he heard her voice tickle his ear, and he wasn't sure if it were true. He waited for her to repeat herself, and when she didn't, his interest was piqued. "Did you say something, Bones?" He whispered.

"No." Her response wasn't stern or dismissing, informative at its best, she gave his hand a light squeeze, and he was sure that she had more to say, he could just tell by the way that she was watching him. "You said that you have secrets." She said, her voice strong and insistent, she watched the serene smile on his face, and his eyebrows raised.

"Of course." He shrugged. "We all have secrets." He said, watching her brow furrow a bit, she looked slightly concerned, and he tugged her arm to keep them moving down the sidewalk.

"I want to know one of your secrets." She said, immediately stopping once again, he let out a playful chuckle and her reaction was laced with stubbornness when her eyebrows dropped in a frustrated scowl, and she let out a childish sigh.

He tugged her arm again, this time, wrapping his strong arm around her shoulder, his hand lightly caressing her arm as he steered them down the sidewalk once again. His eyes dropped down, noting that her feet appeared to be dragging a bit more than previously, and suddenly he realized that he was finding himself amidst a full blown Doctor Temperance Brennan pout.

Turning his head, he allowed her to lead them down the sidewalk, his lips were very close to her ear, and she could feel the heat of his breath. A chill trickled through her nerve endings, sending a gentle chill cascading down her spine, sending tiny sparks of warmth through her limbs to her fingertips and toes. "I think you are very virtuous." He whispered.

She leaned her head into his chest, turning herself around in front of him as he tumbled slightly from the surprise of her appearance in front of him, and he let out a loud laugh as she stumbled backwards a little, catching herself. "How is that a secret of yours?" She asked, eyeing him suspiciously, he could see that she hadn't fallen for his secret, though he meant it sincerely.

"Do you know what I really think of you?" He asked. "Have I ever told you?"

"No."

"Then it was a secret." He replied bluntly. "And now it isn't."

"You think that I am virtuous?" She asked, her eyes focusing on the stubble on his chin, unable to look him in the eyes for a moment, she found the courage to look up into his eyes, and could see that they were looking down at her with such pride, his lips pursed and a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Of course I do." He said, tilting his head to the side, he watched as her eyes danced over his features, taking in every single pore, every tiny hair, and every miniscule measurement in his face. "Sometimes when you look at me like that, I feel like you can see right through me." She opened her mouth to protest, and he placed his finger to her lips as she smiled against it sheepishly. "It's absolutely beautiful. Would you like me to tell you what I find so virtuous about you?" He asked. Her head nodded just slightly, and he leaned down, slipping his finger from her lips, he replaced it with his own lips, pressing them against hers. He felt his breath hitch when she kissed back, her hand moving to his neck, it was cold and soft, and he felt a shiver move through him as she slipped her warm tongue into his mouth.

There was nothing rushed about this kiss, and there was no concern of rejection or failure, which seemed to warm them both thoroughly, especially when his hand grazed her cheek, very gently slipping an escaped strand of hair behind her ear. She gasped slightly when his finger just barely touched the skin of her ear, a feather light touch that seemed so intimate, yet so perfectly natural, that she found a giggle working its way through her throat, escaping unbidden through her lips as she broke from the kiss and buried her head in his neck, a deep breath taking in his scent yet again as her hands pulled at his jacket.

"What?" He asked, a touch of humor in his voice. He could still feel the warmth of her kiss on his lips and through his body, and he shook his head, the scent of her hair wafting into his nose, his body automatically reacted, and her hands clenched and unclenched his jacket as if she were trying to regain control. "Bones, are you… are you being bashful?" He whispered, feeling her hands clench harder, he knew the answer, though her reply was strong as she lifted her head and looked him directly in the eyes.

"No." She said, and the moment their eyes did meet, she diverted hers to the side, and tipped her head to rest it on his chest, she could feel and hear the laughter in his chest and her cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

"It's okay." He said, rubbing her back softly with his hand, he let her find a sanctuary in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her head, burying his nose in the damp tendrils of hair. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about." He whispered. "I like your kisses. They keep me warm."

"It just feels weird." She said, her voice blocked by his chest, he heard what she said, but it came out muffled and soft. "All of this time, all I've wanted to do is kiss you, have you hold me. All of this time, I kept myself at a distance, and you let me. You let me hurt you, Booth, and it wasn't fair." She swallowed, lifting her head, her eyes met his, and for a moment she lost her thought process, and in a split second it was back. "Don't ever let me hurt you again." She said. He could tell the seriousness of the matter in her voice, and her eyes searched his relentlessly for an indignant response and found nothing but sincerity. "Do you understand?" She whispered.

"I understand." He said, without pause.

"You may say that I'm virtuous, and you may believe that to be true, but I am not without flaw, and I am not without failure."

"Bones." He whispered, watching her head tip just a fraction of an inch to the left, as if turning her ear to hear his words. "If you ever needed an example of how you have changed… if you ever needed proof that you, as a scientist, as an empirical goddess, as a queen of all that is logical, consistent, and rational… if you ever needed that evidence… say those words that you just said to me, say them again."

"I don't know what that means." She whispered.

"When we first met, you would never have admitted to having flaws… you would have never have admitted to failure."

"Well… back then, I would have never have admitted that I had fallen in love with you." She said, taking a step backwards, she stumbled a bit, and he reached for her, ensuring her steady stance before allowing her to stand on her own. "When we first met, I didn't understand or know what I was feeling when you kissed me, and now I know that it has been love this entire time."

"Are you saying that you knew?" He asked, his eyes studied hers for any sign of retreat, and found none.

"I'm saying that I knew." She whispered. "But I didn't know what I knew." She said, her face showing the confusion that she was feeling. "Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay." He said, being sure to sound sincere, and not humored by a question that from anyone else would seem silly or ridiculous, but he knew that she was absolutely serious about this. She truly did not know whether or not being wrong all of this time was okay or not. "You have been working with me all of this time Bones, putting pieces together in crimes that no one else could solve… and you figured out another puzzle. It took some time, but I don't think it could have worked out any better."

"You wanted it to happen sooner."

"This is just fine, Bones. I am just fine with our reality the way it is now."

"Good… because it's only going to get better." She said, turning around, she felt his arms around her waist as she leaned back against him, and they walked together.

"Oh yeah? And you know this for certain?" He asked, leaning forward over her shoulder as they walked.

"I know." She nodded, a self satisfied smile adorning her lips, as she turned her head and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.


	11. Temperance

Her feet were feeling a bit tender, the constant rubbing of her heels into her feet, but she would never tell him that, for they walked in silence and in a combined solitude, and she wasn't willing to break that silence for anything. He had draped his arm around her shoulder as they made their way to the rain soaked mall, the grass squishing beneath their steps, and the cool water seeping up into their shoes.

Silence was a stranger to the both of them, for communication had always been their specialty, at least between the two of them. They were always talking, discussing, bickering, arguing or joking with one another, but tonight was different, tonight was not about the individual, it was about the unit. They walked together as a unit, and came to rest eventually at a familiar bench along the reflecting pool. He swiped at the puddle wooden slats, and held his arm out for her to wait, as he pulled his coat off.

"Booth, we're already soaked through." She whispered, her eyes sparkling at him as he carefully lay the jacket across the bench, his eyes moving up to meet hers as he sat down solidly upon it, his hand reaching up to take hers. He entwined his fingers in hers and gave her a gentle tug, smiling when she gave in and sat beside him, allowing his arm to wrap around her and pull her close.

"You're going to have to keep me warm now." He whispered against her hair.

She did not reply to his request, only pushed her body farther into his, resting within the crook of his arm and against the warmth radiating through the white dress shirt that he wore, now dry from the rain, but wrinkled and disheveled. His fingers danced over her jacket, strumming to a tune that was neither music, nor silence, and if she wasn't mistaken, was matching the beating of their hearts at that moment.

Her head was resting on his chest, her eyes focused on the lights from the monuments reflecting in the pool.

She found herself drifting off slightly, her eyelids drooping as she fought to keep herself awake, the drumming on her shoulder was lulling her, the sound of his heartbeat was soothing her, and when he spoke, it only managed to further the progress of her inebriated slumber, until the words he spoke seeped into her liquor soaked mind and permeated her comprehension.

"What did you say?" She whispered, lifting her head slowly, as not to collide with his chin that was so close to her head. Her eyes met his, and the lights from the monuments were reflected in her eyes, just as they were in the pool before them.

"I said that I have threatened the lives of many men to keep you safe, and I have never once felt guilty for that." He said sincerely, his eyes dark and clear, his brow showing his sincerity.

"I don't know what that means." She whispered.

"Does that make me virtuous?" He whispered back, tipping his head, his eyes narrowed just slightly, blocking the glitter from the lights, they appeared deep and dark, as if she could fall into them if she came too close.

"Of course." She replied, her brow furrowing in confusion at the question. "When have you…?"

"The Gravedigger case…" He interrupted. "I was scared to death I would never see you again... and there was that case really early on, when you beat up that gang leader in the Hoover." He admitted, watching her nod her head, her brow still furrowed in confusion. "He put a hit out on you."

"You never told me that." She whispered.

"There was no reason to tell you, Bones. It was called off almost as fast as it was put out." He said, his jaw clenching and unclenching, she focused on that for a moment and moved her eyes to his.

"Because you threatened him?"

"I told him that if anything…" He cleared his throat, feeling the emotions beginning to creep in, he internally chastised himself for a moment, clearing his throat again. "I put my gun to his head and guaranteed… that if anything happened to you, that I would find him and kill him." He was sure that he heard her gasp at his admission, and was unsure if he should be ashamed of his actions or not. Her mouth was just slightly agape, and her eyes had widened, but he was not sure if she approved or disapproved of his actions, and he found himself unable to speak until she did.

Her surprise faded slowly, and she couldn't find her voice at first, hidden within a shroud of untold secrets, she took a slow, deep breath. "I am also guilty of being overly protective of you." She sucked in another breath and the intensity in her eyes grew tenfold. "I've come very close on many occasions to injuring your brother on your behalf." She admitted. "When I thought that he had ruined our relationship, when I found that he was driving a wedge between you and I… when I learned how he takes advantage of you…" She paused.

"It's okay, Bones."

"It's not okay, Booth." She whispered. "It is not okay for anyone to hurt you. It is not okay for anyone to threaten you, to threaten us. It's not okay. I have to protect you from that."

"I understand. We're partners, Bones. It's what partners do." He spoke, the words that he had said so many times over the past five years, but this time it was different. Her eyes darkened slightly, her brow furrowed at his words, and she turned her head from him as she stood up. "Bones?" He said, his voice soft and tired, his hand on the handle of the bench as he thought of standing up.

"No." She whispered, or that was what he heard as he followed her with his eyes as she walked away from him. He felt his heart wrench with each one of her steps, and felt as if she had a chain wrapped around his heart and with every step she took, she pulled harder at that chain, squeezing the life and breath from him. It wasn't until she stopped in the sidewalk and turned toward him, her eyebrows raised in expectation that he began to breathe again.

He stood immediately and took heavy steps toward her, purposeful steps, until he had her hand in his, and pulled her to him. "What do you mean, no?" He managed to gasp. Her only response was to drop her eyes from his and tug his arm as she pulled him down the sidewalk along the reflecting pool with her.

They traveled along the darkened sidewalks of the city, though the sky had a strange hue of light that appeared to be breaking through, a halo of light that could not be blamed on the light pollution of the city, but a dim glow of the sun attempting to make its way into the sky, chasing the moon, the stars, and the darkness of night away yet again.

She refused to speak a word to him, her steps purposeful and grand as she took each step down the sidewalk. The pavement before them was drying under the increasing warmth, and the trees that once dripped with rain water had mostly been shaken dry by the wind. He allowed her to lead him through the city, across streets and boulevards, through small patches of grass, dirt and gravel. He let her pull his arm to speed them along as they made their way to this unknown destination that he was certain she knew of the moment they had started their journey, but couldn't be sure. He trusted her completely, and she had never given him a reason not to.

They crossed the road at a familiar place, the looming Hoover building in front of them as he tugged her arm toward him once they were on the same side of the road. "Bones, where are you taking me?" He whispered as she turned to face him, her eyes reflecting back knowledge of the unknown that she was sincerely taking advantage of now. She simply smiled and tipped her head, as if to tell him that if he couldn't figure it out, she wasn't going to reveal it. She knew that if he thought about it, he'd know, and the moment they entered the courtyard, she heard a sharp intake of breath. "Bones."

They stepped up the stairs toward that infamous spot, the spot where since then, Booth had avoided completely, because the memories had become far too raw for him. "Booth." She whispered, pulling him along with her until they reached the top of the stairs. Once they reached the top, she turned and pulled completely into his arms, feeling his warm, strong arms surrounding her in a tight embrace.

"What are we doing here?" He asked, knowing the answer to his own question, he needed her to say something.

She suddenly took a step back, her eyes looking into his as she reached for, and clasped his hands in hers. "I want to give this a try." She said, the serious tone in her voice was strong and confident. "I don't want to ask permission from anyone, I don't want to worry about the risks. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I don't want you to say that you're doing something for me because that's what partners do, because… yes, there is a high probability that partners will have to save one another's lives. There's a high probability that on more than one occasion, partners have been forced into situations such as ours, but partners don't kiss, and partners don't make love, and partners don't stand beneath the dim lights of the Hoover at night and make overtures at one another, Booth… I want to give this a try." She said, turning away from him with her body, though her eyes remained on his. She stopped several feet from him and turned to face him completely, watching him for a moment.

"Why?" Was his only response, his eyes dancing over her beautiful features as he watched her bare her soul before him. "Why do you want to give this a try, Bones?" He stepped forward, and she did not retreat.

"Because you are the most virtuous man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting." She whispered. "I have come to realize that I am a very lucky woman to have someone like you in my life. You are kind, pure, and honest. You are generous… willing to sacrifice anything and everything to keep me safe." She said as she stepped forward, forcing them to stand just two feet apart, their eyes searching for answers, and their words lighting the way. You are loyal and patient, persistent, and modest… you are everything that a partner should be, both in life and in your work. You're a true hero to me, Booth." She nodded, stepping forward, she felt his hand rest on her waist, a place that it had found itself many times, not just in moments like this.

"There is one thing that I don't have though." He whispered, watching her eyes reflect back a dazed confusion that she wished that he could erase right that moment. "One thing that I have always craved… one virtue that I have tried, so very hard to obtain and never could, and the more I think about it, the more ironic it has become. The more I attempted it, the more I couldn't resist." He whispered as he left his eyes on hers. He could see that in the reflection of her eyes, the light from the sky was becoming brighter and more profound, the dampness of their bodies were no match for the heat that was mounting between them. His hand lifted to her face and she watched his dark eyes become darker, despite the light in the sky. She tilted her head, questioning his words, for she knew that any words would come off desperate and confused. She stared into his eyes and let a slight smile lift onto her lips.

"Temperance?" She whispered, her own name slipping from her lips so casually, that it sounded like the ringing of a bell. Soft and delicate, rolling forward from her lips to his ears, he pulled her just a little closer.

"Temperance." He whispered. "Restraint…"

A breath left her body and traveled across the distance to him. He smiled, and she tipped her head questioningly.

"Restraint, Bones… self control, abstention, moderation between self interest and the needs of others…" He smiled. "I've lost that battle."

"You've lost the battle of self control?"

"Only when it comes to Temperance." He whispered, leaning closely, he pressed his lips to hers, closing his eyes as their lips touched, he let it last for a moment before he looked into her eyes. "I want to give this a try, Bones… because I refuse to resist it any longer."

"I want to give it a try, because I am afraid to love, and you are the only person that I know who could show me how to do it properly." She whispered against him, as her arms encircled his neck, and their eyes locked once again, on the steps of the building where they had said their last goodbye, though instead of the rising moon as their backdrop, they had the rising sun, and all of the warmth and love of the promises it would bring.

**The End. I hope you enjoyed! I look forward to your comments!**


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